When The Lights Go Down
by evocatio
Summary: Sometimes near-death experiences make unbreakable bonds. Or, Lexa doesn't die but gets seriously injured, and now it's up to Clarke to help her recover and keep the coalition together.
1. Chapter 1: The Downfall

Chapter 1: That Awful Sound

A/N: Hello all! This is a new branch of fanfiction writing for me, and I'm very excited to take this journey with all of you! The last episode of The 100 broke my heart...although having been an extra for this season I did know it was coming. However, I felt that it would have served the storyline better if Lexa had lived, so here is my version. Just so you know this is Clexa so if you don't like that pairing this isn't the fic for you. For the rest of you, enjoy!

I don't own The 100, sadly.

•••

Clarke felt a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach as understanding dawned upon her. Titus was going to kill her. Dread settled in her gut as the Grounder slowly took aim, weighing the unfamiliar weapon in his hand as he stared down the barrel of it into Clarke's eyes. Just in time, she dropped to the floor and scrambled behind the sofa as Titus' shots followed her like a hungry animal. She felt such disappointment that after all she had worked so hard to accomplish, after having finally acknowledged her love for the Commander, she would die here, shot down by a diplomat on the eve of the peace she had worked to create.

In a last bid, Clarke's eyes travelled to the heavy glass doors, only five meters away. If she could just make it there, she could scream, find a weapon, anything to stop her seemingly inevitable demise. Taking a breath, she shot up from behind the sofa, heart pounding like it wanted to burst from her chest. That was, if she didn't end up with it splattered on the wall first. Desperately, she sprinted through the open space. The door was so close...and then she saw her. Horrified, Clarke opened her mouth to yell. Tell her to get away. Anything to keep her out of a stray bullet's lethal path. But she was too late. As Lexa stood at her lover's door, a bullet slammed into her chest, and she stood yet for a few moments, gasping like a fish on land, a look of wide-eyed shock on her beautiful face even as the blood drained from it.

"Lexa!" Clarke breathed, her heart, which moments ago had been bursting from her chest was now clenched painfully tight as she watched Lexa's legs shake and finally give beneath her. Without thinking, Clarke stepped forwards and caught her limp frame.

"Help me get her to the bed!" she yelled, now that her adrenaline had kicked in and she had found her voice. Titus, his face almost as white as his mistress's, bent down and picked Lexa up like she weighed nothing more than a child.

"Forgive me, Heda," he whispered to her, "for everything I have done this day."

Lexa just stared up at him with pain-clouded green eyes, struggling for each breath as her hand scrabbled desperately on her stomach in a vain attempt to staunch the flow of midnight black blood.

Titus laid her down on Clarke's fur-covered bed, the white wolf pelts already stained black.

"I need bandages; she's losing too much blood!" Turning to Lexa, Clarke gently stroked her hair "Don't worry, I'm going to fix you. You're going to be just fine."

"There is no...weakness...in accepting my death." Lexa wheezed out, her hands finding Clarke's on top of her wound. Their fingers, slippery with blood, intertwined.

"I'm not accepting anything. You're going to be just fine, Lexa, so don't let go."

Even to her own ears, Clarke thought it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself that she could heal Lexa.

Titus handed her a bowl of water, an old set of scalpel blades and another bowl of ripped bandages. Clarke recognized them as the ones she had torn from one of her shirts after Lexa's duel with Roan.

"Lexa, I need to get this bullet out, but right now you're bleeding too much. I'm going to stitch up your wound now and then when you're healed I'll go back in and take the bullet out, okay?"

Even in her pain-filled state, Lexa smiled a little at Clarke's clinical knowledge. However, her wording didn't pass Lexa by.

"If." She breathed out.

"If what?"

"If I heal."

Clarke's eyes clouded with anger and she stopped her work.

"No Lexa. You don't get to do this. You talk about your death enough when you're healthy. Talking about it when you're injured won't help you heal."

Lexa had lost all energy to argue, the adrenaline had worn off and she could feel the burning pain of Clarke trying to piece her back together. Suddenly, her eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and she felt the sliding shut, curtains of black appearing around her peripheral vision. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she wondered if this was what it felt like to suffer execution at her people's hands. If this was dying.

She was shocked back to reality with a sharp jolt of cold water on her face.

"Not yet, Lexa," Clarke smiled sympathetically down at her, "After I've got you stitched up, you can sleep. It's too dangerous to let you pass out while you're still losing this much blood. Besides, I know you hit your head when you fell, and you may have a concussion."

Lexa blinked up at Clarke, trying to focus on her eyes. However, just then, the blonde girl pulled to stitch tight, and Lexa saw stars as fire raced through her veins. She felt steadying hands on her body as she convulsed, but they only added to her pain. She opened her mouth to gasp in air but nothing came in. Panic rose in her chest and her weakened hands scrabbled at her throat.

Suddenly, she felt something soft against her lips, and then it went away and soft voice told her to just breathe, that she was fine and all she needed to do was breathe.

"That's better," the voice, which Lexa now recognized as Clarke's, told her, "I'm almost done, I just need to sew up the outer wound and check your head and then you can go to sleep."

Lexa could barely keep her eyes open, and she felt so heavy and exhausted she couldn't even open her mouth to form a coherent answer, just a weak whimper of pain and exhaustion. The candles and the ceiling swam above her like a lake on a windy day. She saw Clarke's black-stained hands suddenly appear in her field of vision, gently stroking her hair. Clarke was talking as well, but Lexa couldn't understand what she was saying anymore, and she was just so exhausted...

Then, she felt Clarke's hand on her eyelids, checking her eyes and the bruise on the back of her head, and this time her speaking was coherent.

"You don't have a concussion, so you can sleep, Lexa."

Lexa opened her mouth, to protest that she was feeling better (which she really wasn't) and that she wasn't tired (which she really was), but all that came out were incoherent noises.

"Shhh, just close your eyes. I'll be here when you wake up."

Relieved, Lexa allowed herself to fall into the the welcoming dark abyss which opened up at her head. Her last conscious feeling was Clarke's hand gently stroking her cheek, and telling her she was fine.

•••

Clarke let a shaky breath escape through her mouth, feeling dangerously close to bursting into tears. Lexa was fine, for now, but she was worried that the bullet would get infected before Lexa was well enough for her to remove it. But she couldn't control that. She had to do her best with the situation that was given to her.

Turning to Titus, who had helped her and stood by her for the whole gruelling time, she motioned to Lexa.

"She needs to be in her own bed, but I don't think I can lift her. Can I trust you to take her there?"

Titus nodded, eyes downcast and overcome with shame for what he had done to his Heda.

"Sha, Wanheda. You did well tonight, saving her."

Clarke dipped her head.

"I trust you know what will befall you if you make another attempt on my life." She fixed him with a glare, as powerful as she could muster in her current state.

Titus nodded and moved to Lexa's side, gently picking her up so as not to jostle her stomach or her head. As Clarke watched him, she wondered if the seasoned politician had once been a warrior. His bearing around the wounded seemed to suggest it. However, Clarke was too exhausted to entertain thoughts of this any further as she followed Titus down the corridor into Lexa's room. Once they were in front of her bed, Titus laid his mistress gently down and nodded to Clarke before making his way out of the room. Clarke set down the bowl of bandages on Lexa's bedside table and then moved to where she knew the Commander kept her clothes, to find her something more comfortable.

Lexa's collection of clothes was surprisingly extensive, seeing as Clarke had one ever seen her wear her armour, and, once, a long black dress. After a few minutes of sorting through the wardrobe, Clarke settled on a long, white t-shirt, probably the only article of clothing that wasn't stained or torn.

Almost apprehensively, she approached Lexa's bedside. She had seen Lexa naked yesterday, but this seemed so different, undressing the Commander without her permission.

"Stop being ridiculous. She needs this." Clarke shook her head and gently eased Lexa's pants down her sun-kissed legs, trying not to admire her strong appearance. Then, she slipped the t-shirt up around the Commander's legs and then onto her torso, trying to avoid lifting her arms at all costs. When she was finished, Clarke hurried back to the wardrobe and found a royal purple wrap, similar to the apricot one she usually wore, which she draped gently over Lexa's upper half, and then she pulled the furs up around her legs, trying to keep the heavier wrapping off of her wound while still keeping her warm. Then, running a shaky hand through her matted hair, Clarke collapsed exhaustedly on the couch by the fire grate and fell into a light sleep, ready to wake at a moment's notice should Lexa need her.

It had been a long night.

•••

A/N: So, how was it? It would really mean a lot to me to hear your guys' opinions, just please be kind! Feel free to send me requests on Tumblr at onthe-longwaydown I'm willing to do one-shot prompts.

A new chapter should be up tomorrow!

A&E


	2. Chapter 2: The Wake

A/N: Wow! Thank you all so very much for your incredible response to this story! You guys made my day! Im sorry this chapter is a day late, but wifi is very hard to come by in my neck of the woods, and I had some difficulties loading it. Once again, thank you all and I will respond to all of your reviews, so please keep them coming! Now, on with the story...

Clarke woke to Titus shaking her shoulder. She blinked blearily up at him, wondering what on earth Lexa's advisor was doing in her room at this hour. Then, with a painful shock, she remembered. The gun, Lexa, all that blood.

"Titus! Is she alright?"

"She hasn't awoken. I came to bring some food and herbs to dull her pain when she awakes."

Clarke narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Do you really expect me to eat the food you give me a day after you try to put a bullet in my heart?"

Titus shrugged.

"You are Heda's only chance of survival. No one else can remove the bullet in her chest. Poisoning you would not be in my or her best interests."

Clarke took the herbs and pointed at the food.

"Taste it. Then I will eat."

"Yes, Wanheda."

Clarke walked over to Lexa's bed and placed her hand on the other woman's forehead. It was warm, but that was to be expected. However, she would need to watch to make sure that the fever didn't worsen over the course of the day.

Turning, she saw Titus had left, so she approached the table and picked up the herbs. She recognized the garlic root and lavender, have seen Nyko use it on injured Treekru warriors before. However, she remembered that it could only be taken if the patient was awake. With a sinking feeling, Clarke approached Lexa's bed again. If she woke Lexa now, she would be in inimagineable pain. However, it would not lessen if Clarke waited. She prepared a mug of water and mixed in a pinch of herbs, like she had seen Nyko do. Then, she placed a hand on Lexa's shoulder and gently shook her awake.

Lexa was first aware of a strong lavender smell that permeated the air around her. Ever since she had been a small child, she had loved walking in the fields of wild lavender around TonDC. The smell had always calmed her, helped her think rationally. Happily, she filled her lungs with the wonderful smell.

Burning agony shot through her stomach, and she gasped and opened her eyes, which only served to worsen her pain, and the headache that was building like a thundercloud behind her temples. She felt a scream building in the back of her throat, but all that came out was a strangled whimper. All around her, bright lights and shadows swayed and dipped in rhythym with her pulse. Then, a voice cut through her pain and fear.

"Shhh, Lexa, I just need to give you something for the pain, then you can go back to sleep."

Lexa blinked a few times, trying to make sense of the swirling shapes around her.

"Can't...dizzy." She moaned.

"Just let me give you this." Clarke told her gently, and Lexa felt a hand lift up her head and pour sweet lavender water between her parched lips. Lexa hadn't realized how thirsty she was until she had a drink. Clarke lowered her head back onto the pillow.

"You can sleep now." Clarke assured her.

"Not sleep..." Lexa tried to maintain some of her Commander mask, "Just going to...rest my eyes."

Clarke chuckled a little above her.

"Alright, let me know if you need anything."

Exhausted even after her short period of awareness, Lexa allowed herself to drift back in to blissful darkness, her pain temporarily gone.

The sun was setting in the outline of the trees in the forest beyond Polis when a young woman entered Lexa's room. Clarke looked up, shocked that she hadn't knocked.

"Can I help you?" Clarke asked.

"Yes," the girl smiled, a tattoo on her cheekbone shifting with her expressions, "My name is Athene, and I am the Heda's second."

Clarke was shocked. Lexa had never mentioned having a second, just the candidates she trained in case of her death.

"She never mentioned having a second."

Athene inclined her head.

"Heda sent me to work the patrols along Azgeda borders three years ago, after my training was complete. I am no longer entirely her second, but since I am the only second she has ever had, it is my duty to take control of the coalition should she become incapacitated. I understand the Commander trusts you a great deal, and I would like your input while she recovers."

Clarke was surprised by her honesty. There seemed to be no deceit or ulterior motives in her voice, but Clarke had learned from the diplomats in Polis that honesty was the best cover for a lie.

"I am, by training, a military general," she continued, looking rather embarrassed, "I have little experience in the politics of the coalition, and I would appreciate your help in making decisions in the Commander's name."

Clark sized the girl up. She looked barely younger than Lexa herself, with thick blonde hair, a rarity among grounders, that was tied into ornate braids symbolizing her high military rank. Her eyes were grey, but one of the pupils was so blown it made here eye look brown, probably due to an old head injury. There was an oval tattoo that curved down her right cheekbome, matching a scar on her left. She also carried a huge sword, almost as long as Clarke's leg, strapped around her waist, and double knives in sheathes at her wrists. Overall, she didn't see, to want to hide anything, but Clarke resolved to be cautious, the words about honesty covering a lie ringing true through her head.

"I'll help you as much as I can, but Lexa should be feeling well enough to contribute in a few days, and then you can go to her, since it is in her name that you are carrying out all your decisions."

Athene looked surprised when Clarke called Lexa by her givem name instead of Commander. Then, she smirked a little.

"I can see the Commander cares for you," she stated, her eyes lighting up a little bit, "I am glad, for both of you."

Clarke found herself flushing, but she pushed those feelings aside, knowing Athene was a warrior and would consider her weak for allowing her heart to rule her head.

"My personal relationships with the Commander will not get in the way of my duty to my people." She said, willing her voice to stay steady.

Athene nodded amd seated herself on a leather chair opposite Clarke.

"I am glad that you, at least, are a beacon of strength among your race. That strength is respected by my people, and could help me convince them."

Clarke looked up at her sharply.

"Convince them of what, exactly?" She asked suspicously. Athene was not, at face value, a good liar.

"Not to kill you and the other Skaikru boy still here. You have violated the kill zone, amd there are many here who would see you dead. I have already had to put the boy in the prisons for his own protection."

The mention of Murphy hit Clarke like a thunderbolt. In the flurry of saving Lexa's life, she had completely forgotten that she was not the only member of Skaikru left in Polis.

"You need to get Murphy out of here," she said worriedly, "He will be killed for his crimes if he stays anywhere nesr the clans, and his death will only encourage Pike and bring more people to his side."

Athene snorted.

"Should the clans not have justice for those he robbed on the eastern roads? Blood must have blood."

For the first time, Clarke was aware she might have underestimated this girl. Athene had her own agenda that had nothing to do with Lexa's, and Clarke had no idea what that agenda was. She would have to proceed carefully.

"Athene," she said in her most authoritative voice, "You have been summoned here as Lexa's second, which means that you are her in the coalition. You must make decisions exactly as the clans would expect her to make them, or they will suspect you are here on you own agenda, and they will become wary, which is something you absolutely don't want. So, if Lexa says blood must not have blood, you must say that as well. Get Murphy out of Polis tonight. I don't care how so long as he is alive. Get him to Arkadia where he will be safe."

Athene looked to be sizing the other woman up. She was silent for a long moment before she stood, abruptly, and stalked towards the door.

"Tread carefully, Wanheda. I am aware of your reputation and you standing with the Commander, but do not think that will stop me from doing what is right for the coalition in her absence."

"You should be wary as well, Athene kom Treekru. Do not think you status as the Commander's second will keep me from doing what is right for the coalition, and my people." Clarke tried to sound as menacing as Lexa did when she was dealing with an adversary.

Athene nodded sharply, a soldier's nod, and swept from the room.

Not for the first time that day, Clarke found herself wondering what on earth she was going to do. Lexa had clearly trusted Athene to run the coalition in her absence, but that had been three years ago, and both of them had changed. What if she and Athene no longer shared the same views on what was right for their people? She could ruin everything Clarke and Lexa had worked so hard to create.

Sighing, Clarke went to sit on the edge of Lexa's bed. The Commander looked pale and weak and sick, so different from her usual self.

"I wish you were here," she whispered softly, "You would know what to do about Athene. How am I supposed to trust her? Or anyone? I can't hold this coalition together on my own."

Feeling hopeless, Clarke allowed her hand to stray to Lexa's forehead, hoping to find some comfort in her soft skin. However, when her hand made contact, a cold thrill of fear ran through her gut. Lexa was burning with fever.

Horrified, Clarke lifted the velvet wrap, as well as the Commander's shirt and bandages. Her wound was weeping blood, but it was not red or infected. Sighing with relief, she wiped away the blood and covered Lexa again. Then, she lay down next to her, ready to wake should Lexa need her.

A/N: Another chapter done! I was very uncertain about adding Athene in, but I decided to go for it because she adds a different component to the story. Please let me know what you guys thought of her! Next chapter is much more based around Lexa and Clarke, I just didn't want to put more of Lexa in than was realistic in her state. Once again, feel fre to drop me a line, either here or on Tumblr at onthe-longwaydown. I'm more than willing to do The 100 one-shot prompts :).

All my love,

A&E


	3. Chapter 3: The Ink

A/N: I wanted this chapter to be more about Lexa and Clarke, because that's mainly what the story is about, and what I enjoy writing. Please let me know what you think, your support is very valuable to me!

Also, just a small note to the readers of my other stories, I have been rereading some of my older works and they are cringeworthy! So I will be deleting many of them over the next few days. I will put notes on those stories before I delete them. Also, thanks to FringeDivision2008 who noticed my spelling of Trikru with a double e. I went back and fixed that mistake; thanks for letting me know!

•••

Lexa was on fire. She dreamt that she was submerged in a pit of flames, while the spirits of past Hedas stood above her and laughed.

"You are weak," they mocked, "You have failed to hold up our legacy, and now you are to weak to overcome your injuries and lead your people. You deserve to die, Leksa kom Trikru."

Lexa struggled, tried to explain that she was only trying to keep her people from falling into war, but her voice would not work and her veins were on fire. The flames around her licked like hungry wolves at her calves, winding their way into her very soul.

"I am strong!" She finally screamed, "I am more than fit to lead my people!"

Then, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, pulling her up and away from the flames and the spirits who were still mocking her.

"Lexa," a voice called to her, "Lexa, you have to wake up. You'll hurt yourself if you keep struggling like this."

She tried, she really did, but her body seemed to be shaking of it's own volition, and suddenly she felt so cold.

"C-cold..." She shuddered.

"I know, Lexa, but I need you to open your eyes for me. I need to give you some herbs to stop your fever."

Lexa briefly wondered why it felt like someone was twisting a knife in her gut, but then realized that Clarke was still asking her to open her eyes. Exhausted, she put all of her depleted energy into pulling back her eyelids.

"Hey there," Clarke murmured, "How do you feel?"

Lexa managed to roll her eyes a little.

"Stupid...question." She said, trying to stop the shaking of her limbs, "So...cold."

Clarke nodded a little, reaching over to Lexa's bedside table to pick up a clay glass.

"You have a fever, but it's just your body healing, nothing's infected. It should go away in a few days."

Lexa was already exhausted from her few moments of wakefulness, and she could feel her eyes slowly sliding shut again.

"Just let me give you this," Clarke slid her hand behind Lexa's head and supported it just enough to pour the water between her lips, wiping away the water that dribbled down her chin, "It'll help you stay awake for a little while longer, until the herbs for your fever have taken effect."

Lexa supposed that if this had been any other set of circumstances, any other person, she would have been burning with embarrassment at her own weakness. However, the combination of exhaustion, pain and Clarke's way of helping her without drawing attention to it made her feel comfortable.

"Clarke..." She rasped as the other girl set the glass back down on the table, "Stay with me. P-please, so...cold."

She saw Clarke's face freeze, and her heart clenched. Had so much changed that she no longer felt she could trust Lexa?

Then, her face softened and she slipped into bed on Lexa's right side, circling her arms around her upper body and pulling her in as close as she could while still being mindful of her wounds.

The relief was instantaneous. Warmth surrounded Lexa like a cocoon, like the merry hearth of her childhood home. Clarke's soft scent, like roses and beechwood smoke, invaded her senses and rid her mind of pain.

"Thank you, Klark." She murmured, Trigeda accent returning in her exhausted state.

"Tomorrow," Clarke murmured into her hair, "I'm giving you a bath. You smell like death."

Lexa snorted quietly, wincing as pain ripped through her insides.

"Sha Klark." She slurred, drifting back into a much more restful sleep.

•••

After Lexa drifted off, Clarke carefully disentangled herself from around the injured woman's body, trying her best not to jostle her. She stood and looked around, trying to think of something to do other than go to the council chamber. She didn't want to deal with Athene just then.

Her eyes fell on a leather-bound sketchbook, a gift from Lexa when she had first arrived in Polis. Since then, Clarke had only had time to make one charcoal drawing; a beautiful outline of Lexa's face as she slept. Now, she retrieved it from the table and opened it to a fresh page. Briefly, she wondered where Lexa had found such beautiful paper. It was thick and a rich cream colour, not like the watery parchment that was more common around Polis. It was truly a beautiful gift.

Seating herself on the left side of Lexa's huge bed, she faced the sleeping woman and began to outline the features of her face, tighter that they would be in normal sleep due to the pain. Clarke etched every detail, every scar and ridge. As she drew she realized that she didn't need to see Lexa's face to draw it. Every part of her was firmly pressed into Clarke's memory like ink on paper.

"You're so beautiful," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else, "I'm so glad you survived."

She left her drawing things on the bed and stood, realizing that Lexa hadn't eaten anything since the night of the attack. Full of new resolve, she left to find the kitchens in the hope they could make something both for her and their sick Heda.

•••

As soon as Clarke left, Lexa stirred, her eyes slowly opening and blinking in her surroundings, at first lazily and then with increasing terror as she realized Clarke was not among them.

"Klark?" She rasped, her voice rising and falling with disuse.

There was no reply, and horror filled Lexa's heart. Titus had tried to kill Clarke once before, and he would have succeeded had he not shot her first.

With great effort, she dragged her fever-heavy arms underneath her and desperately tried to sit up and get a better look around. However, her arms trembled and as soon as she got more than 44 degrees off the bed, a white hot pain flared through her abdomen and up her spine. Gasping, she fell back on the bed, slightly disgusted by her own weakness.

But where could Clarke be? She wouldn't have left; there were people who could bring her everything she needed. However, if someone had made an attempt on her life, surely the noise would have woken Lexa? Frustrated but fearful that if she closed her eyes Clarke would never come back, Lexa stared determinedly at one of the lamps on the ceiling above her bed, just trying to focus on breathing as the pain and sudden cold washed over her in waves. To her slight embarrassment, she found herself wishing that someone would come and give her the herbs she had this morning. Preferably Clarke. Clarke had a way of making Lexa forget the pain.

Just then, she heard footsteps in the hall, and tried to get a good view of the door without sitting, which was a feat within itself.

The small seed of dread that had settled in her stomach disappeared; Clarke was fine, and, it seemed, heavily laden with food.

"Never thought...you were the eating type." She managed, feeling slightly less out of breath as she spoke.

Clarke jumped about two feet backwards and barely managed to keep the food from spilling everywhere.

"You scared me!" She exclaimed, sounding more out of breathe than Lexa had.

Lexa gave an attempt at a chuckle, which turned into wet coughing that wracked her body with agony. She clutched at her chest, desperately trying to find the knife which was twisting over and over in her gut. Black spots appeared in her vision, and she barely felt Clarke's soft hands on her back, sitting her up and rubbing her back, telling her to just breathe through the pain. And she tried, she really did, but in the end the blackness closed in and took her.

•••

All in all, Lexa was only passed out for a minute or so, which relieved Clarke immensely. It was a good sign that her body no longer needed such long periods of rest.

"Hey there," she smiled as Lexa's green-grey eyes fluttered open, looking dazed, "You were only gone for a few minutes." She assured her.

Lexa let out a careful sigh, like she was trying to keep herself from coughing.

"Thank you." She murmured, her voice even more strained than it had been before.

"Shhh, don't talk too much. Your throat needs to heal, too."

Clarke stood and walked to the table where she had hurriedly deposited the food when Lexa had begun coughing. She took the two trays and pulled herself up on the other side of Lexa's bed, careful not to let the mattress dip and hurt the Commander.

"I got the men in the kitchen to make you some soup," she said, laying the tray across Lexa's lap, "See if you can finish that, and then I can get you that bath, if you're feeling up to it."

Nodding slightly, Lexa tried desperately to push herself into a sitting position, her arms shaking like they never had before in her life.

"Oh!" Clarke grimaced, "Sorry, here."

Ever so gently, she placed her hands around the Commander's slim shoulders and helped slide her up, adding a few pillows behind her to support her probably sore back.

"Klark..." Lexa looked away, a little bit of colour flushing her pale cheeks.

Clarke flushed a little too, realizing there was no way Lexa would ever be able to eat the entire bowl of soup without help.

Nervously, feeling a little like she was overstepping her bounds, Clarke reached down and took the spoon from Lexa's shaking hands. She dipped the spoon into the soup and gently brought it to the Commander's lips. As she swallowed, her mouth quirked up into a tiny smile.

"Thank you.." She murmured, "You make this...easier."

Clarke smiled back and continued to feed Lexa the soup.

"That's all I want." She murmured back.

•••

A/N: Sorry to end it on a rather abrupt note, but if I hadn't I would have probably continued rambling until the proverbial cows came home. ;) Anyways, thank you, as always, for all the wonderful support and feel free to drop me a line on tumblr at onthe-longwaydown or on Archive of Our Own as darkviolin1. I would love to do The 100 prompts from you guys.

Until next time!

A&E


	4. Chapter 4: The Past

A/N: I focused this chapter on Lexa and Clarke, but I did add a bit about Athene and how she came to be Lexa's second. Thanks to RagnarWolf who suggested that I had given Athene too much power, and was wondering why her views were so different from Lexa's. Hope this explains!

Moments from the past (flashbacks) will be headed by a forward slash /.

•••

After Lexa had finished about a quarter of the bowl of soup, she turned her head away, completely exhausted from sitting for that long. Her stomach ached awfully, and she didn't want to imagine what the pain would have been like without the herbs Clarke had given her. However, her throat was feeling a little bit better, and he voice no longer cracked when she spoke, it was just very soft from weakness.

"Beja, Klark," she said softly, "I need to lie down."

Clarke's expression was shocked, and a little nervous, like she couldn't believe that Lexa was actually letting Clarke take care of her.

"All right," she regained her composure quickly, "But if you're going to sleep, I need to check you injury first. It should be almost time that I can take the bullet out."

Lexa sighed, knowing that all the progress she had made since she ha been shot would most likely be lost after the surgery. It was frustrating to know that she was almost well enough to function again, only to lose it.

Clarke moved the tray onto Lexa's bedside table and lifted the purple silk wrap and thin white shirt, swollen from the bandages underneath, which she also peeled away, leaving nothing but Lexa's sun kissed skin marred by a single wound, bruised and seeping black blood. However, the bruise was smaller and the blood was mostly dried.

"Alright," Clarke looked relieved, "It looks like most of the bleeding has stopped, so I can take the bullet out tomorrow, if you'd like. It would probably be better to just get it over with."

"We have no..." Lexa searched for the right word, "sedatives, here in Polis. You will have to do it with me awake."

Clarke swallowed audibly and took a step back.

"I can't do that, Lexa. Do you have any idea how much that will hurt? You could have a heart attack, or go into severe shock."

"It wouldn't be the first time someone has operated on me awake." Lexa stated, wincing at the memory.

/

The battlefield was empty of life. Not empty, but devoid of anything living. The plants had been trampled under the feet of hundreds of warriors, and the animals had fled when the clashing of swords and the screams of the dying had become too much for them. Sometimes, Lexa thought the animals were smarter than her own race. At least they knew when to run, when to not provoke one another and unite against a common enemy.

Apparently, the clans were unable to do that. And now Lexa, who only wanted unity, was about to pay the ultimate price. In her brief stint as Commander, she had already failed to achieve her one ambition.

Those were her thoughts as she lay dying on the battlefield, her leg broken so badly it stuck out at a nearly right angle from her body and a deep gash cutting across her back like a gruesome smile.

Lexa focused on a flower that wavered in and out of focus in front of her. It was probably the last thing alive on this battlefield besides her. Soon it would be alone.

She heard voices calling in the distance, screaming her name. She wanted to yell at them to leave her, the battlefield was still dangerous. But every time she opened her mouth, all that came out were strangled noises of pain.

Then, she saw something white fluttering in the breeze, and underneath it were a single horse and rider, who came to stand next to Lexa. She focused on the horse's hoof, and then saw with a thrill of fear that the horse was the flecked grey bred only by Azgeda.

The rider slipped down the side of the horse and their boots crunched down on the flower Lexa had been watching. One more speck of life crunched out by the inexorable cycle of war.

The woman, for Lexa could now see her face, crouched beside her and began to assess her wounds. Lexa struggled away, she knew that Azgeda riders would only kill her, no matter what colour flag they rode under. However, she barely managed to drag her trembling arms underneath her before the woman stopped her.

"Beja, Heda. Don't move, it will only hurt your leg more."

Lexa stopped and stared at the rider with wide eyes.

"Why...are you helping...me?" She ground out breathily.

The Azgeda girl looked away, and her face coloured a little bit underneath her white war paint, which was beginning to peel away to expose a dark blue tattoo and matching scar, marking her as a fairly high ranking Azgeda military official. Lexa had tortured enough of them to know.

"This violence..." Her Trigedasleng was broken and hesitant, "This violence must end. Too many have died; my brother and my mother. I have had vengeance on the warriors who did it. Now I want no others to experience my pain."

Lexa felt her eyes sliding shut and the pain was coming in bigger waves now. She barely managed to nod her head before she slipped under.

That night, the same Azgeda girl operated on her as she lay shaking and sweating on pile of furs in the forest. They couldn't risk going to either camp.

The next day, Lexa made the girl, Athene, her second. Because it didn't matter right now how well she knew the girl. They had the same views, the same goals. And that made the Commander one step closer to achieving the goal Costia had helped her believe was possible. One step closer to honouring the girl she had loved.

/

"...Lexa? Lexa, wake up!"

Lexa blinked and saw Clarke's worried face swimming above her, framed by the cracked tiles of her bedroom ceiling.

"What happened?" She whispered. The last thing she remembered was that battlefield years ago, grief clouding her judgement as she appointed Athene as her second. At the time, she hadn't known how much trouble the girl would bring her, or just how different their views of peace were. Her judgement, she liked to tell herself, had been clouded by grief.

"We were talking and you passed out. I shouldn't have kept you talking for so long; you need rest."

Lexa sighed.

"It is not your fault." But Clarke was right. She felt as if she had gone an entire month without sleep. Trying to get into a more comfortable position without actually moving too much, she shut her eyes. As the world faded around her, she felt Clarke's small hand nestle into her hair and begin to pick out the tangled braids, undoing intricate knots and smoothing out the hair after.

Lexa had to admit it was one of the most pleasant things she had ever experienced.

•••

Once she was sure Lexa had drifted off, Clarke stood and walked to the balcony that looked out over all of Polis. As she stepped out, the wind caressed her face, as gentle as any lover. She stared down at her hands, still not completely clean of Lexa's beautiful black blood, and her shirt, which was crusty from blood and herbs. Sighing, she realized she couldn't go on like this. At the very least, she needed a bath and clean clothes, and hopefully a nap. She hadn't slept since the day Lexa first woke up.

Turning away from the beautiful sight that was Polis in the evening, she walked back into Lexa's room and went to the wardrobe, where she chose a black fitted top and loose green combat pants that she had never actually seen the Commander wear. Draping them over her arm, she slipped cautiously into what she assumed was Lexa's bathroom. Clarke was surprised by how beautiful it was, the tub was the size of a pool and framed on all sides by fragments of coloured glass the refracted the sunset outside and shone a dizzying pattern onto the floor.

Worried that she was leaving the Commander on her own for too long, she washed herself up quickly and tried to use as little water as possible, knowing it was hard to come by for the citizens of Polis. Then, she changed into Lexa's clothes and turned to see herself reflected in a huge fragment of glass that was leaning against the colourful wall.

The woman staring back at her was not the Clarke she remembered seeing on the Ark. This woman was tall with filled out features and feathery blond hair that was braided and twisted intricately around her head. She was tall and commanded attention, even when she was alone in the room. But the most different were her eyes. No longer did they reflect the beautiful blue and green orb she had seen from space. Now they saw with wisdom and shrewdness, appraising everything around her.

Clarke no longer had the face of a girl. She had the face of a leader.

•••

A/N: Not sure how I feel about this one. It feels a bit rushed, which makes sense because I was a bit rushed to make sure that I could get it to you guys today. I may come back and update it later. However, I would like to hear what you think of my Athene backstory, and how she became Lexa's second. I think Lexa may have realized her mistake too late...however, there's still a chance that Athene could be an ally. Let's see what happens!

Feel free to send me prompts on tumblr at onthe-longwaydown, or leave me a review here.

Thanks,

A&E


	5. Chapter 5: The Leap

A/N: Prepare for an angst filled chapter! :/ I wasn't too pleased with how the last chapter turned out, so I put a lot of extra work into this one. So...in this chapter Clarke FINALLY takes the bullet out of Lexa's chest. Enjoy and don't forget to leave me your feedback! I respond to all of them. :)

Warning: there's a little bit of graphic bloodiness in this chapter, nothing terrible, but just warning you.

•••

"You're wearing my clothes."

Lexa was more surprised than anything. She hadn't often pictured her clothes on anyone other than herself, but if anyone was going to wear them she wanted it to be Clarke.

Clarke's hair was damp from washing, but it was starting to dry at the front; she must have washed it several hours ago. The dry hair waved softly in the night breeze that blew through the curtains, and Lexa shivered in spite of herself, more out of awe than cold. She couldn't believe that Clarke could get anymore beautiful, but the moonlight streaming in through the windows illuminated her body, silhouetting it against the backdrop of the night sky. Her eyes shone like the stars behind her.

"I didn't want to leave you alone for too long." Clarke jerked Lexa out of her reverie, "I've got to keep an eye on you if I'm going to take that bullet out of you today."

Lexa felt a thrill of dread. This wasn't the first time she had needed an operation without sedatives, but it had usually been something minor, like the time she had needed a knife removed from her thigh. She had never been shot before; the Sky people had brought their weapons down with them. She had no idea what this would be like, and she was not excited to find out.

Looking over, she saw Clarke's beautiful face was pale and her hand were scrunched into the fabric of her shirt. Overall, the fact that she looked nervous didn't make Lexa feel any better, but she knew that voicing her doubts would not help the situation.

"You can do this, Clarke," she said, her voice still whispery from the pain that came with speaking, "I trust you."

Clarke looked away, and Lexa felt her heart throb when she saw tears sliding down her cheeks.

"You still trust me?" She asked, her voice shaking, "It's because of me that you're lying in that bed, because of me that you can't eat or sit up without help. I'm the one that got you shot!"

"Sha, Klark," Clarke looked up, shocked at what Lexa had said, "Yes, you got me shot, but I would do it a hundred times over again, because if I hadn't walked in, you would have died. And I couldn't live with that."

Lexa beckoned for Clarke to come lie by her, and tried to push herself up sitting.

"No, lie down," Clarke murmured shakily, "You'll need your strength for tomorrow."

Frustrated, Lexa have up her struggle, having barely managed to move at all with her weak arms. Her breath came in gasps and she closed her eyes as the pain once again rolled through her in insurmountable waves, like a tsunami that she no longer had the strength to run from. She tried to speak, but only her moan of pain managed to escape.

"Oh, Lexa," Clarke sighed, "I'm so sorry that I did this to you. But once the bullet comes out, I promise the pain will be better."

Lexa stared up at her with wide green eyes, no longer trusting herself to speak. She hoped her expression was enough to tell Clarke that she trusted her, that it wasn't her fault.

"Just rest." Clarke whispered, and Lexa knew from her tone that she understood.

•••

The morning came much too soon, Clarke thought. But that's always the way when you're dreading something. The memory of Lexa dying in her bed wouldn't leave her head. After saving her life, what if she took it now because of her own inexperience?

Trying to calm her shaking hands, she picked up one of the scalpels that Titus had provided for her and stared at it. With this instrument, she realized she could either give the woman she loved her life back, or take it away from her forever.

Clarke dropped the scalpel back on the metal tray with a clatter. No, she couldn't do this, there must be someone in Polis more qualified to help their Heda. She couldn't have more blood on her hands, which were already stained red from Mount Weather.

"Skaiprisa," a voice outside the door of the healing ward called, "It's time."

Clarke felt herself wanting to say that she wouldn't do it, that there must be a healer somewhere that could do a better job than her. But even as she opened her mouth, she knew it was no what Lexa wanted. Lexa, who trusted her even after she had tried to kill her, spat in her face, gotten her shot. No, she owed her this.

Straightening her back, Clarke swept from the room, trying her best to look like she was in control of the situation; she knew the grounder healers would never assist her if she didn't look like she knew what she was doing.

•••

Lexa could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and she imagined that this was what a hunted deer felt like moments before it was shot. Except she had already been shot, now she was just waiting for the conclusion.

The thought did not cheer her.

When she heard footsteps down the end of the hallway, she felt herself break into a cold sweat. She wished that she could block it out, chose not to feel like she had used to do. But Clarke had changed her too much for her to revert to her old ways. For a moment, she almost regretted that.

Then, the door swung open, and Clarke walked in, looking as nervous as Lexa felt. She was making a valiant attempt to look like she was in charge, but Lexa could read her like a book. Behind her, Titus and another man she didn't recognize, probably one of the healers, carried a litter that she assumed was to be used to carry her to the healing wards. Sighing, she hoped there were no warriors in the intervening passageways. She already appeared weak.

Clarke bent over her, breaths coming quickly through her sculpted lips. Lexa tried to focus on them instead of her upcoming ordeal.

"I made sure there isn't anyone in the halls." Clarke whispered, "They shouldn't see you like this."

Lexa nodded her thanks, incredibly grateful at how well Clarke knew her.

Clarke turned to Titus and the other man and nodded to them. Titus approached his Commander's head and placed his hands around her shoulders, preparing to lift her.

"Forgive me, Heda, for this and my other crimes." He looked away, his face seeming old and full of grief.

"There is nothing to forgive." She whispered back, and watched as the lines on his countenance slowly disappeared, like someone had run their hand over his skin and smoothed away the fear.

Then, the grips around her shoulders and waist tightened, and Lexa's stomach turned as she felt herself being lifted, and searing pain shot through her entire body. She felt herself go rigid in Titus' arms but she no longer cared because the contents of her stomach were rapidly making their way back up her throat. She barely had time to gasp the word "sick" before she doubled over, retching, each convulsion bringing on another wave of gut wrenching agony. She could feel Clarke's arms around her, holding her as she gasped for air and tried to stave off the pain.

"Shhh," Clarke murmured into her tangled hair, "Just breathe with me, you're going to be just fine."

She continued in this manner for almost a minute, until Lexa had stopped convulsing and just lay on the litter, panting, her eyes shut against the agony. She didn't think anything had hurt her quite this deeply before, like a burning knife was ramming over and over into her gut.

She heard voices around her, but only the cadences, like she was floating in water. However, Clarke's tone was urgent enough for Lexa to know that the bullet needed to come out soon.

She jerked into motion, only adding to the lurching in her stomach. Bringing her hand up to her face, she saw it came away slick with black blood. A sick feeling that had nothing to do with the bullet settled in her stomach.

Once again, she felt the litter stop it's motion and someone's hands wrap around her, and she steeled herself as flames shot through her gut. But she was too tired to be sick, too tired to scream and cling to Clarke's hand, as she so desperately wanted to do. She couldn't even open her eyes when she heard Clarke's shaky voice above her.

"I'm going re-open the wound and take out the bullet, and then I'll sew shut any parts of the wound the bullet was covering. Hopefully, you'll pass out...before I do that."

Lexa could hear that Clarke was panting, heaving in huge gulps of air like it would somehow help her keep Lexa alive. But they both knew the truth.

Nothing except precision and skill could save her now.

And with that, Clarke made the first cut, and Lexa screamed.

•••

Clarke's hand almost stopped when she heard the wrenching sound of agony that tore from Lexa's throat. But some ancient instinct, the part of her that knew that Lexa would die if she stopped now, forced her hand onwards across the red, healing skin.

Immediately, black blood welled like a swollen river and spilled out across the still-bloodstained skin. Clarke felt her heart rate increasing, her mind working desperately as she tried to calculate how much blood Lexa could afford to lose. It wasn't much.

She spared a moment too look up at Lexa's face. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and sweat was sheeting down her face. Her fists were clenched around the restraints that would keep her from hitting Clarke away from her.

Clarke's heart sank when she saw the Commander was still awake, but she hoped that soon the pain and blood loss would become too much. Forcing herself to look away from Lexa's clenched face, she focused her mind solely on the gruelling task ahead of her.

•••

Clarke lost track of time. Seconds turned to minutes, which turned to hours. Hours of painstaking work cutting around the bullet, making sure she wouldn't damage any blood vessels or Lexa's lung, which was painfully close to scraping against the small piece of metal lodged in her stomach. As Clarke prepared to make the final cut, however, there came a knock at the door. Without looking up, she nodded at the guards to admit whoever was outside. Whatever they were here to tell her, it must be important.

Her heart dropped when she saw Athene's beaded combat boots waking through her peripheral vision.

"Now really isn't the time." She growled, still not looking up.

Athene's boots took up position on the other side of Lexa.

"I leave tonight, but I thought you might make use of an extra pair of hands. I used to be a healer, before I was a warrior." She snorted softly at the irony.

Clarke desperately wanted to say no, to tell Athene to get on her horse and leave Polis right now, but the rational part of her brain intervened again and told her that her hands weren't as steady as they had been at the beginning, and her legs were becoming numb. Nodding slightly, she moved over to allow Athene access to the bullet.

"Close off that vein, and I'll take it out."

Athene did exactly as she was told, all her movements executed with precision and care that could have only come from deep respect. After a few minutes of silence, she spoke.

"I was a fool."

Clarke didn't answer.

"I was a fool, because I wanted to intimidate you. I wanted to show you that you were a Sky woman, and not worthy of honour amongst our people. I thought I could prove I was more fit to stand at the Commander's side. I've never been so wrong."

Clarke looked up momentarily, acknowledging how difficult it would be for a warrior to bend their pride enough to admit to this.

"Thank you." She whispered, like any louder voices might wake Lexa. Then, she turned back to her work, easing the bullet out.

The rest of the evening was passed in silence.

•••

A/N: So there we have it! How did you like Clarke and Athene working together? I hope it makes sense why Athene was trying to intimidate Clarke, and why she might mistrust her.

Next chapter: Lexa wakes up and we see if she's okay, and Clarke bids Athene good bye.

Please let me know what you think, and feel free to send me prompts/anything else on my tumblr onthe-longwaydown.

All my love

A&E


	6. Chapter 6: The Beginning

A/N: So, first off, I made a new Tumblr account specially for The 100 stuff, the username is cllxa100, so please send me prompts either there or to my Twitter, which is probably easier, it's clexa_prompts. I'll do as many as I can!

Sorry this chapter is a day late, I had to go to a concert last night and it went really late, so this was the first opportunity I had to get this chapter up. I hope you enjoy it and please leave me feedback!

A&E

•••

Clarke left Lexa's side only once that night, and only for a few minutes so she could go wash the blood away from her hands and clothes, like that could erase the memories of tonight, the night she could have killed the woman she loved.

When she returned, Athene stood and respectfully moved away into the shadows, reminding Clarke of Lexa's near-invisible bodyguards.

"Thank you, Athene kom Trikru," she whispered, hoping to not disturb Lexa, "You were a great help to me, and you have done your Heda a great service."

Athene looked up, and Clarke thought she saw a glimmer of a tear in her eye.

"No," she murmured, "You are so wrong. I am a traitor, even my name makes it obvious. I am Athene kom Azgeda, not Trikru. And after all these years, after falling in love with my Commander and having my heart broken by her, I still come back to her. My emotion clouds my judgement, and makes me unfit to lead."

"Does Lexa know?"

"She knows I was a warrior for the Azqwin before I saved her life. I betrayed Azgeda for peace. But she does not know I love her."

Clarke looked up at the warrior, not entirely sure what to say. She knew that, despite her protestations, Athene was no longer Azgeda, or at least she was no longer in line with their beliefs. But the fact that she loved her Commander made Clarke see her and her behaviour in an entirely different light. All that time, without realizing it, Clarke had been hurting her.

"I'm sorry, Athene. For all the pain I've caused you. I hope someday you find happiness."

Athene turned from the door, and looked down at Clarke with eyes that held both the steel of a warrior and the softness of friendship.

"May we meet again, Klark kom Skaikru."

Then, she turned, and slipped away into the darkened corridors of the tower.

•••

Lexa heard voices long before she was aware that she was hearing them. Soft voices, with downward cadences that made them sound sad, like someone had died.

Briefly, she wondered if that person was her. It certainly felt like it. She felt dreamy and strange, and all her limbs were weighed down by exhaustion like she had never felt before. There was burning pain and pressure in her stomach, but she felt somehow removed from it; it still hurt horribly but the hurting wasn't part of her.

Then, she felt a different kind of pressure in her hands. In her left, sharp pain, although it was diminished in light of the pain in her stomach. In her right, just soft pressure, like she was holding something.

Wearily, Lexa pulled herself up further through the layers of her unconsciousness, until the voice (there was only one now) began making more sense.

"Lexa," it called, soft and sweet like the scent of flowers on a summer breeze, "You need to wake up now. You've been asleep for too long."

The pressure in her right hand tightened, and, using all her strength, she squeezed back.

"There you go, you're almost there, just open your eyes now."

Her eyelids, unfortunately, felt like someone had replaced them with the entire weight of her tower in Polis.

She struggled for a few minutes, eyes fluttering open and closed, until finally she dragged them all the way open.

As she stared up at Clarke's worried countenance above her, there was really only one thing that came to her mind.

"You'resobeautiful." She slurred almost incoherently.

Clarke smiled softly.

"Touché. But you can talk to me more about that when you're feeling better."

"Mmmm." Lexa tried to roll over like she usually would after having woken from a nightmare. However, she didn't get very far before the incision on her stomach seared with pain and she almost screamed, biting it back at the last second to more of a strangled moan. Her vision tilted and shifted around her.

"Try not to move, I'll go and get some herbs and then we can see about sitting you up." Clarke assured her.

"Clarke...it hurts," Lexa gasped through clenched teeth, "Everything hurts...so much. And I'm cold."

"You lost a lot of blood, and you broke your wrist." Clarke winced and looked away, like she didn't want to talk about that. She picked up a clay glass of the table and set it beside Lexa's bed. Then, she set about rearranging the mound of pillows supporting Lexa's head.

"I'm going to sit you up now." She warned.

Lexa just nodded and gritted her teeth; no matter how much she wanted to be back in her council chamber, directing the coalition, she knew that wasn't an option if she couldn't even sit without someone helping her.

The pain that shot through her stomach, while still intense, wasn't nearly as strange and internal as when the bullet had still been inside her. At least she wasn't as sick as she had been then.

Once she was settled back against the pillows, she was so exhausted her head was almost falling onto her chest. Gently, Clarke placed another pillow behind it and Lexa leaned back gratefully, too tired to even care about the tugging pain in her gut as she stretched her neck back.

"I'm going to check your wound, can you drink this while I do that?"

Clarke placed the mug in Lexa's uninjured hand and watched worriedly as it shook so badly the water almost spilled over. Lexa barely managed to drink a quarter before her arm was too exhausted and she let it fall back on the bed with a disgusted look. Clarke caught the mug before it spilled to badly, and lifted it to Lexa's pale lips herself, pouring the rest in before she set it down and lifted the Commander's shirt and unwound her bandages.

Lexa looked with a sort of detached interest at her wound. It was larger than she would have expected from a bullet, although Clarke would have probably had to widen it to remove the bullet. It was still red and bruised purple and green, with blood staining her stomach. The wound itself was stitched together with thick black sutures, the only kind to be found in Polis.

"It looks much better," Clarke smiled, looking extremely relieved, "You had a close call."

Lexa dragged her head off the pillow to look Clarke in the eyes.

"You must stop blaming yourself for this." She stated in the most authoritative tone she could muster, "I heard the shots being fired from a long ways away. If I had decided I didn't want to get hurt, I could have just turned and walked away. But I didn't, because then you would have died and I couldn't let that happen. I'm falling in love with you, Clarke, more every time I see you smile and every time you speak. What I did that day saved the woman I love, and I would do it every day for the rest of my life if it meant I could be with you."

Clarke's eyes were wide, and they shone a little bit with newfound hope, and she smiled as Lexa's head dropped, in a combination of exhaustion and embarrassment at the admission of her feelings.

"Thank you, Lexa, and I'm glad you forgive me. But the only thing that will make this pain go away for me is time, and I want you to be there through all of it."

Clarke leaned down and pressed her lips softly against Lexa's quivering ones and wrapped her arms around her, enveloping her in a scent that was so distinctly Clarke that Lexa almost cried from relief. She was here, she loved her, and neither of them was going anywhere.

•••

Later that evening, Lexa was sleeping as Clarke ran a bath for her. After fifteen minutes of frustration on the part of Lexa and desperation on the part of Clarke, she had finally relented and allowed the Commander to take a bath, although only on the grounds that she hadn't been out of bed for an entire week, and even a little bit of movement would help her muscles strengthen again.

Smiling softly, Clarke poured some lavender water into the tub, remembering how Lexa had told her a few days before she was shot about the lavender fields around TonDC that she had loved when she was a child. When she was well, Clarke wanted to take her back there, to see the look on her face of pure happiness that didn't grace her features as often as it should.

Walking back down the corridor to Lexa's room, she hurried over the the bed and shook the Commander's shoulder, hoping to rouse her before the steaming hot water went cold.

"Mmmm...I'm so tired." Was the vague, slurred response she got.

"I ran you a bath, it would hardly be doing me justice if all that work went to waste."

Lexa's beautiful eyes, the same shade as the trees that her people were named for, slowly opened, hazy from the herbs for the pain and the exhaustion that followed her operation.

"Alright..." She murmured, sounding much younger than she normally did.

Clarke slid her arm behind Lexa's back and helped her sit up as far as she could before Lexa's pained gasps signalled her to stop.

"If you don't feel good enough, we can always wait."

Lexa shook her head.

"I can't just keep...waiting, or I will never heal."

Sighing at her stubbornness, Clarke slid her other hand under Lexa's knees, surprised when she didn't even protest, just leaned into Clarke's neck and wrapped her uninjured arm around her neck.

Clarke walked with Lexa in this fashion to the bathroom, where she lay her on a beaded sofa in the corner across from the mirror. Lexa considered her reflection for a moment.

"I look terrible." She stated, reaching up to touch her pale face.

"You were just shot."

Lexa snorted, then curled in on herself and groaned softly.

"Sorry." Clarke grimaced, but Lexa just smiled a little.

"It's worth the pain to still be able to laugh."

Clarke thought that maybe looking in the mirror had brought Lexa to terms with just how close she had been to dying. She sighed; she certainly understood that feeling.

Turning back to Lexa, she flushed as she saw her trying (and failing) to lift her shirt over her head without moving her arms or stretching her torso.

"I can get that."

She gently removed Lexa's hands from her shirt and slid it over her shaking arms and above her head, flushing as she realized that the Commander was now only wearing the bandages wrapped around her midsection.

"You weren't this embarrassed last time." Lexa snorted softly.

"You hadn't been shot last time." Clarke shot back.

Lexa looked away, her pale cheeks flushing a little.

"Does that change anything between us, that fact that I've been shot?"

Clarke shook her head vigorously, hair spinning around her like the beautiful skirt Lexa's mother had made for her when she was a little girl, before she had been a warrior.

"Come in with me?" Lexa asked nervously, "I don't think I can stay sitting in there."

Clarke nodded, handing Lexa a beautifully beaded blanket to wrap around herself to keep the cold away. Then, she quickly pulled off the clothes she had borrowed from the wardrobe in the other room and wrapped herself in another, similar blanket. She turned to see Lexa watching her.

"You're beautiful." She stated.

"You are too." Clarke answered, feeling uncertain, but Lexa smiled softly, her green eyes lighting up. Then, she tentatively pushed herself up on shaking, arms, like she was going to stand. Worriedly, Clarke hurried to her side.

"I can carry you again." She assured her, but Lexa waved her away.

"Beja...Klark," she gasped, doubled over and gasping even though she hadn't made it off the couch.

Sighing, Clarke took Lexa's uninjured arm and slung it over her shoulder, pulling her to a half crouched over position and trying to ignore her pained gasps and the painfully solid grip on her hand. Seeing that she couldn't straighten any further, she let Lexa take a few stumbling steps on shaking legs before she gently pulled her into her arms again.

"Another day, maybe." She murmured as Lexa gasped, tears streaming down her face. Gently, Clarke wiped them away with the back of her hand.

By the time they made it to the tub, Lexa's pained breaths had subsided, and Clarke slipped her blanket off and gently sat her on the edge of the tub, before doing in the same and joining her.

"Lavender..." Lexa smiled, "It smells like lavender."

Clarke smiled at her and moved to sit behind her in the water, running her fingers through Lexa's messy brown curls.

"When you're better," she promised, "I'm going to take you back to TonDC, and we'll go to the lavender fields together."

"Mmmm." Lexa hummed contentedly, revelling in the feeling of Clarke's fingers in her hair and at the the thought of their newfound future together.

•••

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! I've been putting a lot of thought and effort into not using their names too repetitively, which is hard when you're writing with only two characters. I hope it turned out ok!

Please leave me your feedback, or give me a shout on Twitter at clexa_prompts and on tumblr at cllxa100, you can leave me prompts there or suggestions for this story!

Thanks for reading!

A&E


	7. Chapter 7: The Birds

A/N: I'm not sure how many chapters are left in this story, so I have a question for all of you. Would you like this story to continue into Clarke and Lexa's relationship even after Lexa is better, or be finished once she's recovered? Let me know in your reviews!

Enjoy this chapter.

•••

Lexa lay contentedly on the sofa, watching a flock of birds wing their way by her window as Clarke's soft voice continued on in the background. After a quick lesson in the nuances of Trigedasleng that she hadn't already picked up, Clarke had proved very adept at reading the language, and since Lexa's arms were still too weak to hold the book herself, she had willingly delegated the task over.

Clarke set the book down on the glass table once she had finished the chapter, and came to sit by Lexa's head.

"How do you feel?" She asked.

"It hurts," Lexa shrugged, "But it's better than when I first woke up."

Sometimes it was hard to remember that it had only been two days since she had removed the bullet from Lexa's chest. Already Lexa was sitting up on her own, eating and staying awake for extended periods of time. She had made an incredible recovery, even though there was still a long way to go before she would be commanding her armies again.

"I was thinking, if you feel well enough, we could take a week and go to TonDC. You could show me the lavender fields."

Lexa smiled sadly.

"I'd love to, but look at me. I can't even walk. How could I ever get to TonDC?"

"Ride behind me. I can tie you on so you could sleep while we're riding. Besides, it will be good for your people to see you well again."

It was true that none except Titus and a few other advisors had seen her since she was shot, and apparently people were beginning to ask questions about where their Heda had gone.

Lexa shrugged again, a small motion so she wouldn't stretch her stitches more than she had to.

"If my people are going to see me, then I at least need to be able to walk. They probably already think me week for how long I have been away."

"Just come out riding with me. You don't need to walk anywhere where your people will see you."

Clarke desperately hoped Lexa would agree, she knew if they stayed in Polis any longer Lexa would be forced or pressured into returning to her post directing the coalition, which she was in absolutely no condition to do. Yes, she could sit for small amounts of time and eat, but she couldn't stand and her hands shook whenever she picked up something heavy. Clarke had also noticed the pained grimaces and the way she pressed her hand to her stomach when she thought no one was looking.

Lexa sighed shallowly, breathing deeply still being difficult for her.

"Very well. But I don't want to take more than a week. My people need me here, before the coalition collapses and war is inevitable."

Clarke smiled.

"Thank you."

She stood to pour herself some water from a pitcher, but turned when she heard a gasp.

"Lexa, you shouldn't do that." She admonished, hurrying to her lover's side as she doubled over in pain, "If you want to go somewhere, I can help you."

Lexa nodded to the wardrobe.

"If we leave tomorrow, I'll need something to wear while we are there." She panted, settling back into her reclined position on the couch.

Clarke walked over the the carved wooden doors and pulled them open.

"There are saddlebags in the bottom," Lexa instructed her, "Please don't pack anything that will be heavy, I don't think I can carry any extra weight right now."

Clarke grabbed a few lights shirts and two pairs of pants, as well as the loose black dress she had seen Lexa wear after her duel with Roan. She slid the knife with the carved wooden handle in on too as well.

"Why that knife?" Lexa asked curiously, there was a garrison of weapons in her closer, and some were much lighter and better for travel than the one Clarke had chosen.

"It's your favourite. You take it with you everywhere you go. It's also the first thing I noticed when I first met you."

Lexa smiled, she remembered well the day that a beautiful girl with silky hair and eyes like the ocean had stumbled into her tent begging for peace. The thing she had chased for so long, and lost so much to.

"When I saw you, I'm surprised I didn't drop it." She commented dryly.

Clarke smiled a little wider, remembering her own first impressions of the Commander. They had not been pleasant.

"I'm going to go back to my rooms to get a few things for the trip. Do you want anything before I leave?"

Lexa waved a hand at her bed; her back was aching from sitting for so long and she was tired.

Without questioning, Clarke moved over and slipped the arm that wasn't encased in a bandage over her shoulder, helping Lexa until she was standing almost straight; she still hunched a little from the pain her stitches gave her. Then she stepped forwards, Lexa's legs trembling next to her. They almost made it to the bed before she collapsed and Clarke slid her into her arms and helped her lie down.

"You're getting stronger." She commented.

"Not strong enough," Lexa said, sounding disgusted with herself, "What happens when there's a war? I can't allow myself this weakness."

"It's not about allowing it," Clarke said as she pulled the furs up to Lexa's shoulders, "It's about doing what you need to so you can be strong again."

Lexa sighed and gave a small smile. She had learned a long time ago that Clarke didn't buy into the weakness stigma prominent in her people, and she loved her for it.

•••

When Clarke returned later that night bearing a leather knapsack and two bowls of steaming hot stew, Lexa was asleep, curled in on herself and looking beautifully peaceful. Gently, so as to not disturb her rest, Clarke laid her bag by the saddlebags, and slid in bed to eat her dinner.

She was about halfway finished when Lexa began to stir, at first just twitching and frowning, but it quickly escalated to moaning, and, before Clarke could wake her she began to cry, tears streaming down her face the way ice melts in summer, slowly, then all at once.

"Shhh," Clarke reached over and held her close, "It's just a nightmare, you're safe."

Lexa awoke with a gasp that sent her hand flying to her stomach and a pained grimace crossed her face. She leaned into Clarke's shoulder, tears still falling down her face.

"I dreamt of Costia," she finally said shakily, "She told me I had betrayed her by falling in love with you, and that she wished I had died so I could come be with her, like I promised."

She choked back a sob and buried her face once again in Clarke's shoulder, seeking comfort in her scent and warmth.

"Costia wouldn't think you had betrayed her because you fell in love with someone else. She would be glad that you were happy."

Lexa looked up, flushing and quickly wiping the remaining tears away from her face.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, "I forgot myself."

"No, it's fine. You don't have to be a commander around me. I like you better as just Lexa."

She smiled weakly and pulled herself up to sitting, grimacing.

"What did you find for dinner?" She asked, trying to change the subject.

"Stew. It looks horrible, but once you stop thinking about what's in it, it's actually quite good."

Lexa laughed quietly.

"It's that way with most things in life, as well." She said dryly.

•••

A/N: Not my best chapter...but I hope you enjoyed it anyways. More of a filler for what happens next. I probably won't be updating until Tuesday; I'm moving in with my girlfriend tomorrow; very excited except the landlady seems to have something against lesbian couples...well, I suppose we'll get through it (and you probably don't care about my personal problems :) ). Enjoy and don't forget to leave a review!

A&E


	8. Chapter 8: The Descent

A/N: A very fluffy chapter of Clarke and Lexa dealing with the difficulties of travelling a week after you've been shot in the stomach...when it's raining. Please enjoy!

•••

The next morning dawned cloudy and with rain misting down through the streets of Polis. Clarke had risen early to go prepare the horse and bring it to the base of the tower so Lexa wouldn't have to walk all the way to the stables. As she lead the horse across the market square, however, she was stopped by Titus, who had materialized out of the rain.

"Where are you taking the Commander?" He asked worriedly. Ever since he had shot Lexa, he had been twice as nervous about her safety, like someone else might follow his example.

"We're going to TonDC for a few days. She needs some time away from Polis to rest."

Titus didn't looked particularly worried. No, he looked downright horrified at the mere thought.

"What about a guard detail? There are many among my people who would see Heda's head mounted on a wooden stake!"

"Are you one of them?" Clarke asked shrewdly, "Because if you are not, then you'll understand why she can't be here right now. She needs time to herself, no guards, no one looking over her shoulder. She needs time to be just Lexa, not the Heda."

Titus looked taken aback at Clarke's boldness.

"I do not wish to see my Heda dead," he murmured, "I am merely trying to keep her safe."

"I understand, and that's why you're still alive. If I thought, for even one second, that you planned on harming Lexa again it wouldn't be her head on the wooden stake."

"Yes, Wanheda."

Titus nodded his head and turned on heel, his purple robe trailing in the red mud created by the rain. Clarke tried not to think about how much it looked like blood.

•••

Flustered from her conversation with Titus, Clarke didn't even notice that Lexa was awake and watching her as she stormed into their room. Lexa, for her part, watched with the smallest of smiles on her face as Clarke stalked to the window where she stood breathing heavily.

"Do you think if you breathe hard enough, you'll blow all your problems away?" Lexa asked, her mouth quirking.

Clarke jumped and spun on her heel, blue eyes wide.

"You have to stop doing that!" She said indignantly.

"Doing what?" Came the mirthful reply.

"Scaring me! You could've frightened me so badly I had a stroke, and then there'd be no one to take you to TonDC."

Lexa snorted, then grimaced and let out a low groan as it pulled painfully at her stomach.

"Are you sure you feel well enough to go today? We can wait if you're still too sick. It's raining today, anyways."

"I'm done...waiting." Lexa ground out as she rolled to sit up. Clarke was by her side in an instant, one hand on her probably terribly sore back and the other guiding Lexa's hand over her shoulders.

"It's going to be a long ride today. You should save your strength. I can help you get dressed."

Secretly grateful, Lexa leaned up against the wall, waiting for the world to stop spinning in front of her like a giant pinwheel. She hadn't told Clarke she was still dizzy. It was weak, and unimportant. Besides, she knew Clarke had been looking forwards to taking her to TonDC, and she didn't want to ruin all those plans now.

"Do you want to wear your armour?" Clarke asked from the wardrobe.

"No...find me my black coat and shirt, and blue pants." She responded, not ready to admit she probably couldn't handle the weight of her armour at the moment. Even wearing her regular clothes scratched against her overly sensitive skin and tugged at her wound unbearably. But she was, after all, used to bearing the unbearable.

Clarke returned to the bed and laid out the desired items. It had been a long time since Lexa had seen her favourite black coat, and she would be glad once she had it's comfortable weight on her shoulders again. Unfortunately, however, that meant she had to go through the effort of putting it on. Not wanting to show how exhausted she already felt, Lexa dragged herself away from the support of the wall and straightened her back, despite the sharp pain she felt.

Clarke handed her the items of clothing one at a time, and helped her where her shaking hands couldn't manage, or offered her arm to lean on when Lexa had to stand. By the time they came to the coat, Lexa's legs were quivering even with Clarke's support, and she could barely lift her arms to put them through the sleeves.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Clarke asked, throwing a concerned glance in her direction, "I don't want to go unless you're absolutely sure you'll be fine."

"I know my own body, Clarke." Lexa said with an unintentional glare, "I will be fine."

There was a part of her that so badly wanted to scream that she wouldn't be fine, that all she wanted to do was lie back down and close her eyes so the world would stop spinning. But she couldn't be weak, she had to be strong and hold herself together, for Clarke. Who had been too close to breaking more than once because of her. If she knew that Lexa was still sick, she would blame herself, and Lexa could raise the quota of times she had broken the woman she loved to three, which was far too many. So she ignored the part of her that was screaming from agony and exhaustion, that just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry until the pain stopped.

Clarke nodded, not looking entirely convinced, but she didn't press the point any further. Instead, she turned and grabbed the bags she had packed for the two of them, slung them over her right shoulder, and held out her left arm to steady Lexa as she stood, slinging her arm behind Clarke's shoulders and trying to lean as little as possible on them. She knew she would regret it later, but she couldn't let Clarke know how weak she really was.

The two of them set off down the back staircase, per Lexa's recommendation, as there wouldn't be anyone going up or down them at this time of the day. It was a gruelling walk to the bottom, however, as these stairs were much more steep than the ones that spiralled around the old elevator shaft in the middle of Polis tower. By the time they were halfway down, Lexa thought the stitches in her abdomen had reopened, they hurt so badly. She gasped and leaned so heavily on Clarke that her toes were barely dragging on the ground.

"Beja...I must stop." She panted.

Clarke took one look at her and then helped her lean back against the pale yellow wall.

"You're fine." She murmured, pushing back Lexa's sweaty hair, which she hadn't bothered to braid again since she was shot.

After they spent a few moments, except for Lexa's laboured breathing, she spoke up.

"I want to keep going."

"Lexa..."

"No. I want to keep going because I want to do this with you. I'll have time to rest when we get to TonDC, but I want to go there with you, today. I'm tired of waiting to be healed, to be finished saving our people. This is the last chance like this we'll have for a long time, so I want to take advantage of it."

Clarke regarded her through narrowed eyes for a moment, then she nodded.

"I want to do this too. But you have to promise me that you'll say something if you start feeling even a little bit worse."

"Alright."

Lexa reached up and took Clarke's outstretched hand, giving it a small squeeze and offering up a small smile to reassure her. Then, they continued on down the stairs.

•••

The horse was contentedly munching away at the long, yellowish grass that had grown up around the back entrance to the tower, a testament to how often this door was used.

Clarke helped Lexa sink down against the wall, checking to make sure that no one was walking by. Then, she strapped the saddlebags and her backpack to the horse's saddle, pulling a length of rope out of her bag before she did.

"Once we get out of this city, I'm going to tie you to me, so you can sleep while we ride."

Lexa slumped in relief, allowing herself a small shiver as the rain, which was now pouring from the clouds like someone had opened a heavenly floodgate, soaked through her coat and thin shirt. She took Clarke's hands again and allowed them to pull her upright and lead her stumbling feet to the horse.

"Do you want me to lift you, or get up and help you from there?"

"Get up..." Lexa muttered, feeling strangely detached and distracted. Clarke shot her a quick concerned glance as she mounted up and then helped her onto the horse. By the time they were both seated, Lexa was completely spent, and it was by sheer willpower that she kept herself sitting straight as the drenching rain poured down around her. Once they were out of Polis, then she could rest...

Clarke gave the horse a sharp kick, and they jerked forwards, sending Lexa's head flying up. She sat straight, making her best effort to long strong and in control for the people they rode past, even as she clung to the fabric of Clarke's sweater to keep herself upright. People cheered her name, reached up to touch her like she was a goddess, and all she could do was shudder as their voices rang in her ears and their hands scratched against her sensitive skin.

The ride to the gates felt like an eternity, and when the creaky pieces of metal finally scraped by and let them pass, Lexa's head was resting gently on Clarke's shoulder. There weren't any people this far out, and honestly she wouldn't have cared if there had been. She felt like she had just fought a battle that had lasted a week.

Clarke reined in the horse once they were a good distance into the forest, maybe an hour's ride out from Polis.

"How are you doing?" She asked, even though she knew the answer already.

"I'm fine. A little cold."

Clarke had been worried about the rain, and she had remembered to bring one of her old jackets from the Ark, which was waterproof. She had always thought it was so useless to have a waterproof jacket in space, but now she was glad she had thought to keep it.

"Here," she said, leaning around Lexa to retrieve it from her saddlebags, "Wear this, it'll keep the rain off."

Lexa shot her a grateful look as she slid the jacket over her slender shoulders and huddled into it's warmth. She didn't even notice as Clarke slid the rope around her waist, tying them together.

"There, you can sleep now."

Lexa leaned into Clarke's shoulder and shut her eyes, feeling exhausted but comfortable and warm in the presence of the woman she loved.

•••

A/N: Uh oh! I sense some trouble brewing in the near future...but don't worry, they'll get to TonDC eventually. The lavender scene is going to be very sweet!

I'm all settled into my apartment, and the landlady doesn't seem to have any issues (yet...) I suppose all we can do is wait :/. However, I've realized I write better quality chapters if I have more time to write them, so I'll only be updating every other day from now on, with the exception of weekends.

Please leave me your thoughts, and you can feel free to send me prompts on my Twitter clexa_prompts. I'd love to connect with you guys!

All my love,

A&E


	9. Chapter 9: The Rain

A/N: hello all! Before we continue, I just wanted to thank each an every one of you for the amazing support on this story! This is my most popular story on this site, and I'm so grateful to all of you for encouraging me to keep writing. I've had over 16 thousand views! So thank you all, and please continue the great support.

All my love,

A&E

•••

When Lexa woke next, it was still raining, and she felt horrible. The water had soaked through her less than waterproof pants, which were clinging to her already overly sensitive skin. She could barely lift her head off of Clarke's shoulder, and her throat felt muffled and strange.

"Cla-rke." She barely managed to croak as her voice dipped and fell.

Clarke started like someone had electrocuted her, causing Lexa to lose her balance and slip back so that the only thing holding her on the horse was the rope and her weak grip on the fur saddle. Clarke stopped the horse suddenly.

"You need to rest," she said, fear flashing in her blue eyes, "I shouldn't have believed that you were fine at the tower."

Lexa could feel the anger radiating off her in waves, like she was a puddle somebody had just stepped in. She tried to explain to her that the only reason she hadn't said anything was because she didn't want to break Clarke all over again, not because she didn't trust her. However, all that came out of her mouth was a harsh, rattling cough that made her wound ache like it was new again.

Clarke looked over her shoulder again, her face going a shade paler.

"I need to get you to TonDC, now," she said, her voice shaking, "I shouldn't have ever left Polis with you."

She pulled Lexa back up against her and tightened the rope around her waist before giving the horse a hard kick, setting it off at a flat out gallop. Lexa groaned behind her as the less-than-smooth gait of the horse caused her wound to send spikes of pain radiating through her body. Black spots clouded her vision, and the last thing she was aware of was her head bouncing against Clarke's shoulder before her vision went dark.

•••

As Clarke rode at a breakneck pace down the well-travelled dirt road to TonDC, all she could feel was guilt. How could she, who had watched her mother work on the Ark for years, no notice the signs that Lexa wasn't well? She was a poor excuse for...whatever she and Lexa were.

She turned to see Lexa, pale and passed out on her shoulder, her breathing rattling ominously in her chest. Clarke had seen some of her mother's patients, who, while they were recovering from severe injuries, had caught colds, which had developed into pneumonia. There was no way she was letting that happen to Lexa, because there was usually only one outcome.

Clarke winced and shoved aside the memories that surfaced of the woman she loved gasping and panting for air, blood streaming down her chest, or struggling to be free, fighting until her wrist finally snapped and unconsciousness took her.

Sighing, she kicked the horse harder, settling into the rhythm of the pounding hooves beneath her, of Lexa's limp head bouncing on her shoulder. Thinking about what she had done wouldn't change the fact that she had done it.

•••

It was late in the night, but Athene was still riding hard. Her horse was on the brink of collapsing, but she couldn't find it within herself to care. She needed to get away from Polis, to get away from the pain that place had caused her. There was a small part of her that desperately wanted to return to Azgeda, to the bloodshed that had shaped her childhood and youth. But no, she had turned her back on that road a long time ago.

There was also a part that wanted to go back, to be Lexa's friend and to help her recover the way she had when they had first met. That was how she had first fallen in love with the Commander, she thought. The way she would look at her, the way she had depended on her for everything when she was still too weak to move, and while it was still to dangerous to return to the Trikru camp. That was where it had a started.

/

Athene wandered through the forest, stopping occasionally to run her hand across the forest floor, feeling out the pulse of it's life from the simple indentations and rises in the soil. She had been tracking a large buck for almost two hours now, it being the largest set of deer prints she could find. After all, it wasn't every evening you had to hunt for the Commander.

Then she stopped, startled. Her mind was reeling as she finally realized the the real reason she had been out hunting for two hours in the bitter cold. It wasn't because the woman she was feeding was the Commander. It was because the woman she was feeding was someone whose opinions she have immeasurable value to.

Heart pounding, Athene swept those thoughts aside. She did not care, did not love. Those emotions had been taken from her with each member of her family that died. And she was not going to allow the woman who had killed them to bring those emotions back.

•••

When she returned to the small cave where she was living with the Commander, she hefted the deer off her shoulder and set it down on the table, turning away from it's sightless eyes. They mocked her, reflecting the love weakened version of herself in their glassy depths.

"Heda?" She called, willing her voice not to shake.

A faint rustling came from the other room, and Athene entered it to see her Commander pushing herself shakily up out of the bedding laid out on the floor.

"No, rest," she said hurriedly, not wanting to allow her to hurt herself more, "Your leg and back need time to heal. I was just letting you know I was back."

The injured woman on the floor stared up at her through pain darkened eyes.

"Leksa," she slurred, "My name is Leksa kom Trikru."

"Leksa." Athene rolled the name on her tongue like she was trying a new food, "That's beautiful."

And so the last of her walls broke down.

•••

A/N: Well...not much Clarke and Lexa action in this chapter but theirs and Athene's stories will be crossing in the very near future.

Hope you enjoyed!


	10. Chapter 10: The Arrival

A/N: Hopefully this much more detailed chapter will make up for the pitifully short one I gave you last time :/. I really understand why you guys didn't leave many reviews; I was rushed in writing that chapter and I hope this one will be better, since I gave it much more time and thought. Please enjoy and leave your comments and feedback!

Also, I haven't had a lot of time to respond to my reviews what with all the chaos of moving, so I will start doing that again now that we've settled in.

ONE LAST THING and then I promise I'm done. I HAVE A HUGE ANNOUNCEMENT AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER! So make sure you read it! :)

Love,

A&E

•••

Clarke stopped when they were still about 45 minutes away from TonDC, her heart pounding in her chest like Titus was still trying to shoot her. There had been a massive clap of thunder, and Lexa hadn't even stirred. Lexa, who woke if a bird landed on her windowsill. Clarke turned in the saddle so he was facing her sick charge, taking her sweaty, grey face in her hands, and gently tried to rouse her. However, when nothing came of her quiet crooning and murmuring, she felt deep panic setting in. Finally, as a last resort, Clarke slapped Lexa's face sharply, leaving a bright red mark on her too pale face.

Lexa's reaction was instantaneous. She gasped like someone had just dumped cold water on her head (which was, unfortunately, not far off from the truth), but that gasp turned into wet, sickly coughs. Her green eyes shot open and widened as she clawed at her throat, trying to breathe past the blockade the illness had set up in her chest.

"Clarke..." She croaked, "Help me."

Clarke snapped out of her horrified reverie, and slid off the horse, dragging Lexa with her until she laid down her on her side in the muddy ditch by the side of the road, rubbing her back and wiping away the tears and spit that covered her face.

"Shhhh," she murmured as Lexa coughed and sobbed into her shoulder, "We're almost at TonDC, I just have to get you there and then we'll find help."

They sat in the ditch for almost half an hour before Lexa's coughing finally stopped and she lay quivering in Clarke's lap, a shaking hand pressed over her stomach wound and her eyes unfocused and wandering. A small stream of black blood trickled from the corner of her mouth; damage done to the inside of her throat, not from her wound.

"Oh, Lexa, I should've stayed in Polis with you." Was all Clarke could manage as crushing guilt settled it's dead weight on her chest.

"No..." Lexa rasped, her voice more like sandpaper than it's usual powerful resonance, "Lavender fields...with you."

Clarke felt a tear slip out of her eye. After all that she'd done to the Commander, Lexa was still in love with her.

"We'll go there," she promised, "We'll go there together, and we'll spend and entire day just sitting and talking about our future, and smelling the lavender, no talks about treaties or Arcadia or your spirit. Just us."

"Mmmm...us," Lexa murmured even as her half-lidded eyes began to close. Above her, in the rain which was still drizzling miserably between the dripping trees, Clarke ran her hands through the tangled brown hair, soothing Lexa back into a fitful sleep.

•••

After she was sure Lexa was, indeed, asleep, Clarke laid both of their waterproof jackets over her prone figure and stood, stretching. Her muscles were aching and grating against one another in protest of a long day's ride. She limped up the ditch to the main road to get something to eat, glancing about to make sure there was no one coming. Then, she turned to the saddlebags, and felt the cold press of steel against her throat.

Clarke tried to jump back, he heart pounding violently within her chest, but whoever was holding her was standing directly behind her. Their chest was rising and falling rapidly.

"Wait," Clarke gasped as the knife pressed harder against her neck, "I need your help."

It was a dangerous gamble, but this person was going to kill her, and there was a chance that it was a grounder who was still loyal to their commander.

"Wanheda?" The voice breathed, shocked. The knife was hurriedly pulled away from her throat, and the arm that was wrapped around her stomach was pulled away.

Clarke turned to her attacker, expecting a grounder who had seen her in Polis, maybe, definitely not anyone she had met before.

"Athene?" She gasped. The warrior looked terrible; her pants were ripped and soaked with water and mud and something that looked suspiciously like blood, and her hair was wild and sticking to her flushed face, "What are you doing here?"

Athene looked like she was barely restraining herself from spitting in the dirt, and it was only some deep-seated respect that kept her from doing so.

"Where was I supposed to go?" She rasped, her voice sounding like someone had poured gravel down her throat, "I cannot return to Azgeda, nor to my Heda's side. I was travelling to TonDC to get a patrol assignment when my horse collapsed."

"And so you attacked me because I had a horse and I am a sky person." Clarke finished for her, and the grounder woman stared at her feet.

"It did not expect it to be you, Skaiprisa. I thought you were still with the Commander."

Now it was Clarke's turn to look guilty.

"I am. She's the reason I need your help."

Athene cocked her head, water glistening in her hair against the dull light of the sky. She was truly a fearsome countenance.

"What has happened?" She demanded, her voice stronger and undertoned with deep fear.

Clarke just pointed, like if she voiced her fears to the other woman they might suddenly come to pass. Athene limped, favouring her right leg, down the edge of the ditch, and her one eye that was still fully functional widened in shock.

"Heda!" She murmured, hurrying as fast as her injured leg would allow down the rest of the steep incline, slipping and skidding in the wet grass. When she finally arrived beside her commander, Athene was covered in water and mud, and she sat down with a thud, grimacing and gripping her left ankle.

"You should let me look at that." Clarke motioned to her leg, but Athene shook her head.

"We must get her to TonDC. Much longer in this rain and she could die."

Clarke nodded, almost relieved and ready to relinquish her control over to the warrior. She bent to pick up Lexa, and carried her gently up the hill, trying not to slip and drop her in the grass.

"You should ride with her," Athene motioned, but Clarke shook her head.

"You're injured, and you know the way to TonDC better than I do. Take her there; I'll catch up."

Athene nodded, running a shaky hand through her stringy, wet blonde hair. She looked more relieved than she would have cared to let on, and she allowed her weight to sag against the side of the horse.

"My horse is a half-hour's walk that way," she directed, "He should be well rested by now. Follow us as soon as you can."

Clarke nodded, her heart aching. She just wanted to be with Lexa, to hold her hand as she shivered, to tell her that even though it hurt, she would be fine. It took all her will to convince herself that this was the right thing to do.

"May we meet again, Athene kom Trikru."

Athene offered her a halting smile as she mounted.

"I am...counting on it, as your people say."

Her eyes contained the fear that her words, as a warrior, would never betray. With one last glance, she whirled the horse around and galloped off down the road, leaving Clarke to turn and make her way in the opposite direction, her beaded boots squelching in the gravelly mud.

•••

It was near midnight when Athene, exhausted from pain and days on the road, finally saw the flickering torches of TonDC. The village had changed so much since the first time she had seen it, the mountain men had made sure of that. But this was the place she would always see as her first real home, free of the brutal violence of Azgeda. Warmth blossomed in her aching chest, and she held Lexa closer.

"We're almost home," she murmured into the commander's damp hair, "Just hold on a little longer."

Lexa shifted and let out a soft groan in her sleep, which morphed into a sickly cough, but she did not wake up.

The scrap metal gates were approaching now at a breakneck speed, and Athene barely had time to rein in the horse when she realized the watchmen were not going to open them.

"I am Athene kom Trikru, second of the Commander, and she rides with me. We need shelter!" She announced, hoping the sentries would take her at face value. Lexa didn't have a lot of time.

She saw a flash of a face on the too of the metal wall, and a sharp command was shouted in Trigedasleng; one that she didn't recognize but hoped meant to open the gates.

When the rusty chunks of metal began to swing back on their hinges, Athene felt herself slump with relief. She kicked the horse into the village, and felt another pang as a few fierce-looking women, probably the village's warrior commanders and healers. Obviously, the news had reached the people here that the Commander was not well.

Athene slid down from the horse and nodded to them in greeting, motioning up to Lexa as she did so.

"She needs somewhere warm and dry."

The youngest of the three women nodded, her elaborately braided hair flopping wetly against her back.

"My name is Kirie." She stated by way of a greeting. Her eyes were green like Lexa's, although not as brilliant, and she had dark features and sleek black hair braided away from her face in three rows. Athene found herself slightly mesmerized by Kirie's hair as she moved up next to the horse and gently lifted her Commander off.

However, Athene was jerked from her thoughts at the sound of a horrible scream which quickly turned into a choking cough. She whirled, horrified, to find blood bubbling from Lexa's mouth as she gasped and choked like a fish, eyes wide and filled with pain.

"Clarke..." She groaned out before her eyes rolled back in her head and her body continued it's awful convulsing.

"We have to get her inside!" Kirie grabbed Athene's arm and dragged her away, dazedly. Somewhere in the background noise, they both heard a voice rise above the others.

"She's dying!" It called frantically.

•••

A/N: A cliffie, for a change? I certainly thought so! Now, for the news...

I don't exactly know where I am taking this story, and I would really like some serious input from the people who are reading this. So, I'd like to as you guys to contribute to this story. Here's the deal: you can write the chapter after this one; take it in any direction you'd like to see this story go in. Then, PM or send me a DocX of your entries or message them to my Twitter, clexa_prompts. I will use elements of the chapters I like in Chapter 11, and they will help me decide where I want this story to go. I will also include the names of all the writers and their chapters at the beginning. SO PLEASE ENTER! The deadline is by Friday, and hopefully I'll get chapter 11 up by Saturday, or possibly sooner if I don't get a lot of entries.

I would really love to hear your guys' chapters!

A&E


	11. Chapter 11: The Second

A/N: Special thanks to Sedgie, who gave the inspiration for this chapter. Please continue to send in your prompts for where you would like future chapters to go. They're what keep me writing!

Some bad news: next week I will be leaving for an exchange to Quebec, so no updates during that time (dodges rotten tomatoes thrown by readers), but I will do my best to get another chapter up before I leave next Tuesday.

Enjoy this chapter!

A&E

•••

"She's dying!"

Athene turned and wrenched her arm out of a surprised Kirie's grasp, before turning to face the dark healer.

"I need to be with her," she begged, "Clarke wouldn't want me to leave her alone."

Kirie's green eyes flashed, and she looked about nervously, not bothering to question who Clarke was. Everyone in TonDC knew about Wanheda.

"Follow me," she murmured quietly; Athene could barely hear her over the pandemonium, "But if you interfere, there's nothing I can do to stop you getting thrown out."

Athene was so relieved she could hardly breathe, and she allowed Kirie to lead her numbly through the throng of people, until they arrived at a large home built out of broken chunks of concrete, yet another chilling reminder that it hadn't been that long ago since the mountain men had bombed this place.

Inside, the main room was dark, except for a cluster of candles around a figure at the far end. Kirie walked easily past overturned chairs, stopping to snatch up some herbs from the table.

"Sit there, and don't move." She commanded forcefully. Athene liked her bluntness.

From her vantage point, she could see her Commander's face, pale and sweaty, each breath rattling audibly through the room.

"I have posted a watch along the walls," Kirie said quietly, her back turned away as she ground herbs with a white china mortar and pestle, "They will bring Wanheda here as soon as she arrives."

"Thank you," Athene breathed, trying to take a moment to stop worrying, "Will she be alright?"

"She stopped breathing once already. I'll do my best."

Athene got the sense that the conversation was closed, so she leaned down and began unwrapping the makeshift binding she had fashioned for her almost certainly broken ankle. It had been a day since her horse had collapsed and it had snapped, and since then she had been wandering around in the forest and galloping on Clarke's horse. In her mad desperation to save Lexa, she had forgotten how much worse all her activity would make her injury.

After she released a particularly sharp gasp, Kirie turned, her eyes wide and liquid in the guttering candlelight.

"Are you alright?" She asked, her voice more tender than it had been moments before.

"I think my ankle is broken..." Athene ground out between gritted teeth, "And I have a cut on my back."

Normally she would never have admitted to weakness, but she ached so terribly and she was so tired she could no longer bring herself to care. She just wanted someone to fix her injuries and help her to a bed.

Kirie finished mixing the herbs into a glass of water, which she dropped between Lexa's lips. Then, she covered the sick commander with a bear pelt and placed some stones heated in the fire at the base of her bed.

"Now," she said, slowly wringing her hands together, looking for all the world like one of the praying mantis insects Athene had seen once, "I can help you."

She instructed Athene to remove the makeshift bandage and to roll up her torn pants. After a few minutes of careful prodding and touching (at which Athene tried her best not to flinch and pull away), Kirie took some homemade bandages and re-wrapped her ankle, as well as disinfected and bandaged her back. Then, she gently helped the injured warrior up and walked her slowly to the other room, where she sank down gratefully on the grass mattress.

"Reshop, Athene." The healer murmured, but her charge was already asleep.

•••

Clarke's legs were raw from riding bareback, and her hair was wild and streaming water in a miserable trail that dropped down her back. She had been following the tracks Athene and Lexa had left ever since she had found Athene's exhausted horse eating some muddy grass by the side of the road. So far, she had lost her way twice, and she couldn't afford to do so again. There was nothing she wanted so much as to be by Lexa's side, to hold her hand and help her through the sickness and the pain.

She seemed to have been doing a lot of that lately.

Then there was the crushing guilt. Clarke had felt so overcome by it since Lexa became ill that she hardly knew what to do anymore. She should have known that the Commander was still too weak to leave Polis. And now Lexa was sick again and it was all her fault.

So consumed was she by her guilt, Clarke didn't even notice the gates of TonDC were fast approaching until she heard a cry from somewhere above her. She jerked back on the reins and her horse stopped, gasping, mere inches from the sheet metal doors. From atop the wall, a voice called down,

"Wanheda!"

She looked up wearily and saw a young boy, soaked by the rain, waving his hand frantically in the air. He turned and gestured to someone beside him, and the gates began to grate open with a sound like nails on a chalkboard.

As Clarke rode in, the aftermath of uncomfortable shivers from the noise still radiating up and down her spine, she couldn't help but feel incredibly grateful that Athene had alerted the villagers to her arrival. Already, there was a young woman waiting to take her to Lexa, and the boy from the wall took her exhausted, sweaty horse and led him away.

Utterly spent, she sagged against the woman's shoulders, relieved when she deftly reached out and caught her.

"Just come with me this way, and we can get you settled in." She said, her voice soft and warm, a stark contrast to the pouring rain and the shouts that rang in the air around them, the normal conversations of village life. Clarke could hardly believe that even as her world fell apart around her, life was still continuing. She almost envied the people of TonDC, until she remembered the missile.

These people had their crosses to bear as well, it seemed.

The grounder woman led Clarke through a roughly hewn street, mostly just a mud puddle in the pouring rain. The house at the end was crafted partially out of concrete blocks, clay, and what looked like a tarp, probably taken from Mt. Weather.

"Kirie," the woman called when they reached the metal slab that was the door, "Wanheda is here."

Another woman appeared in the entrance, probably the older sister to the one who had brought Clarke here. They looked identical, except for the one in the house was pale with dark rings under her eyes, and her stained white shirt was streaked with black blood. Clarke felt her heart sink deep into her chest at the grave look the woman gave her.

"You should come," she said, her voice rough and accented, "Heda needs your help."

Heart thudding in her chest, Clarke stepped over the threshold into almost complete darkness, save for a few candles lit around a bed at the far end. She could hear the rain beating monotonously against the tarp on the roof.

However, when she saw Lexa, all her thoughts of the rain were forgotten. She limped as fast as she could over to where the candles were clustered, and took the Commander's sweaty hand as she surveyed the other woman's sickly features.

Lexa's usually carefully kept hair was messy and soaked in sweat; the few braids she had been wearing in Polis had been unwoven to ease the pain in her fever ridden forehead, and dried tears had crusted in the corners of her beautiful eyes, which were clenched shut as if in pain. Her entire body trembled, and her weak breaths rattled dangerously in her chest. A fresh bandage had been wrapped around the gunshot wound.

The grounder woman walked up beside Clarke and placed a hand on Lexa'a creased brow.

"My name is Kirie," she said in a strangely melodious voice, "You did well."

Suddenly, all the emotions of the past week welled up inside Clarke's chest until she felt that she was about to burst. Then, the tears began to fall, softly at first, but increasing in volume and intensity until they rivalled the rain pounding on the tarp roof.

"No..." She sobbed, "All of this, it's all my fault. If I had just left, if I hadn't trusted her when she said she felt fine...none of this would ever have happened."

Clarke felt Kirie's strong arms wrapping around her shaking frame, pulling her into her shoulder, where she lay, shivering and sobbing until the world went dark.

•••

When Clarke woke, she was lying on the concrete floor of Kirie's home, wrapped in a grey military issue blanket. Pulling it tightly around her, she sat up and peered over the rim of Lexa's bed.

She pulled back in shock. Lexa's eyes were open, wide and terrified as her mouth opened and closed in it's desperate search to feed her deprived lungs.

"Shhhhh, Lexa, I'm here now. Just go back to sleep." Clarke soothed, barely restraining herself from stroking the sick woman's forehead, knowing it would only aggravate her fever-sensitive skin. As it was, Lexa was wincing at the light pressure on her hand.

Her breathing slowly came back to normal, rattling and hitching like a broken down steam engine; the ones that Clarke had read about on the Ark.

"There you go. You're going to be just fine."

Lexa was so weak she barely managed a nod before she slid back into feverish unconsciousness, Clarke's hand resting in her own.

•••

A/N: So this chapter is a bit shorter, but I'm hoping by next chapter we'll get down to Lexa FINALLY feeling a little better, and maybe we'll even take a trip to the lavender fields at the end. I can't wait to write that scene, it's going to be so sweet and fluffy.

Until then, continue with the amazing reviews, they keep me from drowning in the mire of unencouraged authors! ;) ;)

All my love,

Ashes


	12. Chapter 12: The Awakening

A/N: Hi guys! I'm back! I'm so sorry for the long wait, but the days during and leading up to my exchange were superrrrr busy, and this is really the first chance I've had to write. In the meanwhile, the new episodes of the 100 are still sucking majorly. I wish they'd just bring Lexa back :(. Anyways, here's a bright and shiny new chapter. While I was writing I spent a lot of time listening to Lover, Please Stay by Nothing But Thieves. It really made me think of Clarke and Lexa and I'd definitely recommend it!

More notes at the end of the chapter, but please enjoy!

•••

Three days after they had arrived in TonDC, Clarke sat at Lexa's bedside, stroking her forehead and whispering softly to her, even as Lexa struggled to control the pain that was overloading her senses. Ever since her fever had broken, she had been racked by horrible coughing fits, which ripped through her bullet wound like it was new. Clarke knew because she was the one who had held the Commander as tears leaked out of her hazy eyes, even though she was so weak she couldn't blink them away.

So Clarke did it for her. Somewhere along in this process of Lexa being shot, the sky girl had become used to helping her, used to taking care of even her most intimate needs. It had gotten to the point where Clarke felt like nothing could faze her anymore, although she was sure that if Lexa was more than semiconscious, she would have put in her two cents about how a commander always needed to be prepared to lead her troops to battle.

At the moment, Lexa's personal battle seemed much more important.

"I can take over, if you need rest." Kirie appeared, ghostlike, at Clarke's left shoulder, identifiable by her strong Trigeda accent.

"No."

Kirie placed a delicate hand on Clarke's shoulder, and just stood beside her. She had refused to leave Lexa's side since she had arrived, so Kirie was doing her best to alleviate her burden in the only other way she knew: silent companionship.

They stayed that way for several hours, one taking care of the woman she loved, the other holding vigil for a woman she respected more than any other. At Clarke's request, Kirie had lit candles around Lexa's bed, knowing that it would help the Commander to wake surrounded by the familiar glow she so loved. She had also noticed that Clarke had placed dried lavender sprigs around Lexa's pillows, and she wondered if there was a story behind it. However, this was not the time to ask. The Commander's fever had broken last night, and Kirie knew that if she was ever going to regain her senses fully, it should be happening soon now, or not at all. And there was nothing they could do but wait.

•••

Athene rode hard on the dirt road towards Polis, her heart pounding in her chest like a bird trapped in a cage. Her horse slid and skidded in the treacherous mud created by the storm she had ridden here in, but she did not care. Her cause was too great to be abandoned.

She had regained her senses yesterday to Kirie, the beautiful green eyed healer, wringing her hands nervously and looking like she was the bearer of terrible news. The first thought that had jumped into Athene's head like an unwelcome ambush was that Lexa must have died. But no, the news was far, far worse than that. And now only she, a woman too blinded with love for her commander to create her own path, had to stop the path of fate.

It made Athene feel like jumping off her horse and lying in the muddy ditch for the rest of her life. But this was far to important to allow her personal inhibitions get in the way of doing what was right. This could be a matter of life and death for not only the Commander, but all of Skaikru.

•••

The pinkish hue of evening was coming on when Lexa first began to wake. Clarke, who had been gently stroking her hand, almost jumped out of her chair when she felt a weak grip, so shaky it was barely there, close around her palm.

"Lexa?" She breathed, hardly daring to hope, "Open your eyes, please."

For a few moments there was no reaction to Clarke's murmured pleas, and then Lexa's pale brow furrowed in a way that made Clarke's heart melt. A few seconds later, shaky eyelids opened to reveal beautiful, if horribly unfocused, green eyes.

"Here, just look at me." Clarke soothed, knowing that it was extremely nauseating to wake up and not be able to focus on anything.

Lexa's hand began shaking in hers and she had clenched her eyes shut as much as she could in her weakened state. Clarke rubbed her back gently, waiting for the nausea to be over. When Lexa no longer looked like someone had hit her with a freight train, Clarke laid her back down.

"How does your throat feel?" She asked worriedly, all that coughing could not have been good on Lexa's already strained vocal chords.

Lexa opened her mouth to reply, and after a few raspy squeaking noises which made Clarke want to turn away, she found her voice.

"I'm...fine." She managed to gasp, eyes falling shut with the effort.

"I can see that." Clarke snorted, and Lexa batted at her hand weakly.

"Let me...sleep."

Ever so gently, Clarke allowed her hand to stroke through Lexa's unkempt, sweaty hair, murmuring nonsense to her until her body finally went slack.

•••

When Athene pulled her sweaty horse to a jolting stop at the gates of Polis, the sight that met her eyes sent shivers of horror down her spine.

The gate, which was usually clean and dark, had been gruesomely painted in the spiky Azgedasleng script, followed by the symbols Athene knew were carved into Ontari's high cheekbones.

Time was running out.

•••

A/N: A short one, I know, but it's taken me days to get even this together, what with all the craziness in my life recently. Next chapter, I PROMISE we will get to the lavender fields. I wanted to give it's own chapter because it's a really big moment in their relationship. Also, what do you think Athene could be up to in Polis? Something not so good has spring up in Lexa absence...oh dear.

I was locked out of my old tumblr because I am a notoriously forgetful person. So please be sure to follow my new one, it's evoc-atio. Feel free to drop me a line anytime.

Next update in a week, probably.

All my love,

A&E


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